Mr Brightside
by BrakishKitty
Summary: Christian gets drunk and gets into a car acciedent leaving him comatose, resulting him in having his 'life coach' show him what it would be like if he had chosen another path. Something similar to Julia's life coach visitation during her operation.
1. Chapter 1

**AUTHORS NOTE:** I really like Nip/Tuck, and this is the first time im writing a story for it. I'd really appreciate it if you could give me feedback on this story. Thanks.

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XxxxX-Chapter 1-XxxxX

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His eyes burned from the bright lights of the bar. They were dim when he had walked in earlier, but that had been hours ago, not to mention the music that pulsated off of the walls wasn't quite as loud and obnoxious as it was now. He could no longer make out the words in the music, they were drowned out in the bass, making it sound like it was almost under water.

His vision blurred slightly as he threw back another shot and set the glass cup down with a satisfying and familiar 'clink' onto the wooden bar counter.

_His adoptive father brought the beer bottle away from his lips and set it down gently onto the arm-rest of the living-room recliner. The stink of alcohol ran through out the living room of 13-year-old Christian Troy's fostor home. "Come here Mr. Troy," his adoptive father said as he slurred his words. He held up his right hand holding a twenty-dollar bill between his index and middle finger._

_13-year-old Christian Troy stood in between the doorway of the kitchen and the living-room, half afraid to approach his fostor father and half wanting to take the twenty-dollar bill from him only knowing what it would mean to take it._

_"Come here boy."_

He had had to much to drink, there was no way they were going to let him drive home alone. Unless he could get out of there before anyone paid any notice. He stood up quickly, too quickly, throwing himself off balance slightly and ended up almost falling over right there. _How smooth_, he thought to himself as he brushed himself off uneasily and steadied himself again before he began to walk to the door and out into the parking lot.

_He walked 5 feet, leaving 3 feet in between him and his fostor father, before he stopped and held out his hand for it. As much as he wanted the money, he did not want to go through the process of working for it._

_His fostor father reeked of alcohol, he pulled back his hand slightly. "Uh-uh-uh, you have to work for your money Mr. Troy. You have to do your job." His fostor father stood up uneasily from the recliner, towering over Christian, and at that moment, he seemed to block out the sun enirely._

The cool night air outside of the bar hit Christian like a slap in the face. When he had walked into the bar earlier, it had been slightly warmer, but since summer was far gone and Autumn was near its end, it had begun to get chillier at night heading into the winter season. Christian hated the cold, but not as much as he hated himself right now.

McNamara/Troy had almost completely collapsed because of his choice of actions between him and his best friend's wife, it now stood together by just a thread and his relationship between him and Seanisstrained, there he could understand completely. Matt barely talked to him ever since hefound out , and Julia was less than happy to admit her mistake even though her and Sean were now seperated.

He fumbled through his pockets trying to find his keys to his car.He found his keys and yanked them out of his pocket, feeling frustrated for no reason,andimmediatly dropped them onto the black, black, black asphalt. His keys seemed to disappear into that darkness. "Shit." He said through numb lips. He bent down to look for his keys and his mind immediatly trailed off to Kimber.

That crazy bitch that tried to cut his dick off when he traded her for Bobolit's $250,000 car. It was a fair trade...at least he thought it was at the time...

He opened the door and fell down into the leather seats heavily. Inside the car it was freezing, and he noticed for the first time tonight he could see his breath. Obviously it was colder then he thought it was. He stuck the his keys into the ignition and turned on the car and turned up the heat in order to get the car warmer.

_He was tied down to his apartment bed, Kimber Henry sat on top of him in only her underwear, she held a knife in her right hand above the 'X' she had drawn with her red lipstick. She looked like she was ready to burst into tears._

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He was already half-way down the road and he hadn't noticed it. He didn't remember pulling out of his parking spot, he didn't remember turning onto the street. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to be driving...? Just maybe...

He was going to have a helluva hangover in the morning, there was no way he could do surgery in the morning, he had to call Sean to tell him his predicament...but Sean would look on him as incompetant, like he was in everything else. He wasn't the brains of McNamara/Troy, he was the saleman, not so much as he was in his youth, but still the saleman of the two.

But he couldn't go into operate if he was horribly hungover either. He shook his head again in order to clear his mind and fished through his left pocket for his cell phone and dialed a familiar number.

The answer machine picked up and it began its familiar introduction. Everything seemed to suddenly slow to a crawl, the over-head street lights glowed in- and -out hypnotically and Christian let his eyes doop slightly.

"God dammit Sean, could your messages get any more boring?" He said aloud, his words were thick.

His hand that held the steering wheelslipped slightly making the car move into the oncoming traffic. He did not have enough time to react to the oncoming car and change directions.

_"...and if you have tried my cell phone already, please leave a message and I will get back to you A.S.A.P." _

_'Beep'_

His eyes went widein surprise right beforecollided into it. A sickening crunch shot out through the street as the metal of both cars began to fold into each other giving it the appearance of an accordian being folded together. Glass from Christians windshield flew apart when he was launched from the drivers seat and onto the streets cold asphalt.

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XxxxX-TBC-XxxxX 


	2. Chapter 2

XxxxX-Chapter 2-XxxxX

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"SOMEBODY CALL AN AMBULANCE, OH MY GOD!" 

**-XxxxX-**

The neon glow of the ambulance lights lit up the street, exposing the condition of both cars and their drivers.

Both of the cars had folded into themselves, almost accordian-like. Glass sparkled on the pitch-black asphalt like glitter, it changedcolors to match the red and blue lights from the ambulance.

The driver in the car that Chrisitan had smashed into had been saved by his seat belt but suffered from mild injuries, a few cuts, scrapes and bruises here and there. A paramedic tended to his needs while his partners rushed Christians limp body onto a stretcher. One of the partners shined a light into his half-opened eyes.

"White Caucasian male, age ranged between 35-40 years, looks to be intoxicated." Two of the paramedics lifted him onto the stretcher and wheeled him towards the ambulance ready and waiting to go to the nearest hospital.

"Is he concious?" One of the paramedics asked. He was a male ranging from lte twenties to early thrities. His brown hair was already starting to gray and thin. His frame was thin, with little muscle to add along. The other paramedic that had been shining a light into Christians eyes looked similar to the other, graying paramedic, only his gaze was harder.

"In and out," his voice was rough, he directed his attention back to Christian. "Sir, can we get a name?" The ambulance had started up along with the sirens. The sirens sounded as if they were underwater, his eyes drooped shut. _O God, those damn sirens..._His head screamed painfully.

"Somebody keep him awake!" One of the other paramedics ordered, the man with the flashlight asked again, "Tell us your name."

He opened his eyes again, only this time it was harder, he was just so damn tired...

"Troy, Christian...Troy." He said thickly, he tried to raise his head. _Where am I?_ he thought. His eyes went out of focus again, he laid his head back down.

"Troy? McNamara/Troy? Ha. Mygirlfriend had her tits done there. By the way, nice job-" The thrid, unidentified paramedic was cut off by the one with the flashlight.

_"Please."_ He ordered."This man has just been in an accident and you want to thank him for the tit job he gave your _girlfriend_?" He redirected his attention to Chrisitan.

"Dr. Troy, do you have _any family_ that we can contact..." The noises around him slowed, all three paramedics taking care of him became distorted and all sound shut off. He could no longer hear them talking to him, but only watch the paramedic with a flashlight's lips move forimg words he could no longer hear. His head was swimming painfully. He watched the paramedic's lips move until a dark, black abyss swallowed him and he drowned.

**-XxxxX-**

It was 7 o'clock at McNamara/Troy, Christian had gone home for 'reasons unsaid' far earlier then what had been the norm. Sean had stayed finishing up paper work the amount of clientele McNamara/Troy had been receiving since Bobolit's business had been shut down after the major lawsuit that had been thrown against it after a stage show dog had died on the operating table. Business, since then,had soared, and up until recently, McNamara/Troy was receivingtwice asmany clientsas before, and then some.

This is more then what he had hoped he'd receive when he was a newly graduated college boy just starting his business with Christian.

His jaw tightened slightly at the thought of Troy.

Their relationship wasn't as strained as it had been previously after finding out Julia's big secret, but it would never go back to the way it was. He still loved Christian like a brother, but he knew who and what he was. A swinger, who would sleep with anyone and _anything_, even his _best_ friends wife. This may have never ome back to bite him in the ass if nothing had resulted in the one-nighter with Julia, but it had, and the cold reality resulted in Matt not being his biological son, but Chrisitans, and he had been lied to for 17 years.

It made him wonder how many other children Christian had floating around in the world. How many women he had so smoothly charmed, _seducted_, into his bed, fucked, then threw them the cab fare with a smile and "Don't let the door hit you on the way out" attitude.

His wife was just another statistic to add to the pack of whores Christian had fucked and thrown away without so much as a second glance. Only, Christian had always second-glanced Julia, and third glanced, fourth glanced, etc, etc...

Julia was always unhappy though, with whomever, or whatever she had. If one or something was unattainable, she found it as something she wanted. Needed. _Craved._ He understood it now, and he didn't care. Much. She was no longer bounded by the marriage coil, so she was free to pursue whatever she liked.

No matter how much it hurt.

The phone rang waking Sean from his moment of deep thinking. He checked his watch, it read 7:13 p.m. and already outside it looked like it was 9:00 p.m. Oh how he hated the winter time change. It always looked so dreary, so dead...

He picked up no the third ring.

"McNamara/Troy, we're closed for this evening. If you'd like to-" The man on the other line cut him off. "Dr. McNamara, this is the Miami Hospital-" _Oh God, not Julia again..._he thought miserably._"-_we have a man under the name of Christian Troy in the Intensive Care Unit, nhe was involved in a serious car accident. I understand that he is your partner in your business, does he have _any_ family that you know of that we can contact?"

"A _car accident_? How serious?" He felt the color drain from his face. "_Very_ serious, Dr. McNamara. Your partner, from what I'm reading here, was intoxicated and proceeded to drive. He was not wearing a seat-belt and upon impact, he was launched from the drivers seat through the windshield. The man in the other car that he hit was wearing a seatbelt and is fine."

Sean licked his very dry lips. "Is Christian..." He trailed off, almost afraid to finish the sentence. "Dead? No, as I mentioned earlier, he's in the Intensive Care Unit. He's not doing too well though, he's in a coma. Is there any family in Florida, or in the United States that we can contact?"

_Christian's in a coma...oh God...oh God...oh-_

"Unh...no, no, no there's no family that I am aware of. He was adopted so, uh...Jesus, he's in a coma?" Seans mind began to race, had Christian mentioned the names of _any_family that he kept in touch with?

None.Christian had no family he had wanted to keep in touch with. His fostor father was dead, the bastard who raped him, and then paid him, and his fostor mother?

No more then a trail of dust in the wind. Christian never mentioned her, and now he wondered, would his life-style be anydifferent he had had parents that showed compassion for him? Cared for him? Kept him and raised him?

_Gina._ _Gina would probably want to know what had happened to Christian. _But the last time he checked, Gina was in the hospital testing positive for HIV, and she's probably still in there too. _Maybe they could shack up too_, he thought dryly. He immediatly felt bad for even thinking that.

"Yes Dr. McNamara, he is in a coma. There may also be come internal bleeding, but we can't tell right at this moment. Are you a close friend, Dr. McNamara?" The Doctor on the phone prodded.

"Yes I am. He's the Godfather to my children." _Not to mention the father to my oldest, _he thought bitterly.

"Well then, would you mind coming down to the hospital. I can give you a full report on his condition, it's a lot less messy in person then it is on the phone. Facts tend to get a bit jumbled." The Doctor replied with a false cheerfulness.

"I'll be right down."

"Thank you, Dr. McNamara, you have no idea how much easier you have just made my job." The Doctor hung up, leaving Sean to the empty dial tone of the office phone.

He hung up, and laid his face in his hands.

**-XxxxX-**

His surroundings were dark, he no longer hurt. He felt..._alive._

A light shone out through the darkness. A dark orangy flame illuminated the large white room that Christian Troy stood in. A woman in her early thirties held the flame, her face framed by her straight black hair. She was dressed completely in white, and sitting with one leg propped up to an arch so she could rest her hand just above the knee, while her other leg was crossed underneath. Her head turned to face Christian, a thin smile played across her lips looking as if she were the cat who ate the cream.

In her hand there was no candle, only a flame dancing inches above the palm of her hand, she seemed utterly calm, the flame danced wildly in her dark, dark eyes.

"Ava? What the hell?" He asked suprised.

"Hello Dr. Troy." She replied, still smiling.


End file.
